


Only Words

by aphreal



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Angst, F/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:59:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphreal/pseuds/aphreal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen Tabris finds an unsent love letter, but it isn't from who she expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Words

Gwenyveve Tabris had drawn night watch and was sitting alone by the fire. She’d been patrolling the surrounding woods earlier, but the area was fairly quiet, and it was a cold night. The warmth of the fire was welcome, and Night-Eyes generally smelled danger long before whoever was on watch could have seen the threat anyway. As long as she was awake and armed, it hardly mattered where she was sitting. Besides, her fingers were freezing. 

She caught sight of something pale against the dark ground by the edge of the coals and reached down to pluck up a piece of parchment, crumpled and slightly singed. Gwen frowned, wondering if a page had come loose from one of Morrigan’s grimoires or Leliana’s prayer books. It didn’t look too badly burnt, so whatever it was could probably be salvaged. 

Smoothing it out, she was surprised to find at the top of the page, instead of the chapter title or spell description she’d expected, her name. 

A letter? Why would someone traveling in her camp bother to write her a letter? And then once they’d gone to that trouble, why burn it instead of giving it to her? 

Curious, she began to read. 

The charring and soot smudges obscured some of the words, but she determined within a few lines that it was a love letter. How sweet! No one had ever done anything like this for her. 

She couldn’t imagine why Zevran had thrown it away instead of giving it to her. Maybe this was an early draft, and he was saving the final version for a night when she wasn’t on watch and they had more time. Maybe he intended to read it to her. She was probably ruining a wonderful surprise he had planned. She ought to put it back in the fire and pretend she’d never seen it. 

Instead, Gwen kept reading. 

Maybe Zevran had thrown it away because he was embarrassed by what he’d written. It certainly didn’t sound like his usual compliments. He was far more likely to wax poetic about plump breasts and supple thighs rather than soft fingers and leaf-green eyes. 

_I long to run my lips over the lines on your cheek and brow._ She chuckled. Zev had offered to give her a full body set of tattoos to match his own and then traced their proposed paths with his tongue. Why had he suddenly gotten shy when it came to ink and paper? She’d have to tease him about it later. 

_I would do anything to keep you safe. My heart freezes every time you draw that sword when I know you’re so much better trained as an archer. I’ve never seen anyone more elegant with a bow, so natural and fluid. I know I should stop encouraging you with the sword because using it is going to get you hurt. I tell myself that every time, but then I offer to spar with you so you can improve. I lie to myself and pretend I’m only trying to help you learn to defend yourself. How can I give up those practice sessions when they’re the only time you look at me, really **look**? The only time I can touch you, even if it’s just to adjust your guard position or footwork._

That couldn’t be right. Zevran never practiced swordplay with her; he was too firmly attached to his daggers. The only person in the camp who’d ever tried to teach her sword forms… 

Gwen froze. The shem? This had been written by that royal-blooded bastard shem? She nearly threw it into the fire right then. How dare he?

Something stayed her hand. How dare he… do what exactly? Think she was pretty? Want to protect her? She frowned, scanning back over the letter. Where was the “take what’s mine by right” that she’d come to expect from privileged shem like him? 

Brow furrowed but driven by morbid curiosity and confusion, she read on. 

_It breaks my heart every time I see you with him. I know I should be glad because he makes you happy, but I can’t. Even though you’ll never look at me the way you do him. Do you know how beautiful your laugh is? I’d never heard it until he showed up, and now I would do anything to hear it and know it was for me. What can I offer you when he makes you laugh?_

The writing had gotten blurry, and Gwen blinked, surprised to discover her eyes were wet. 

_I hope he holds you when the nightmares are bad. I hope he tells you how beautiful you are, how rare and precious. I hope he kisses away all of your worries and soothes every hurt. I hope he makes you feel like the most treasured woman in Thedas, like the amazing and infinitely special wonder you are._

_I hope he does all of the things for you that I’ll never be able to._

If he had written any more, it was charred into illegibility, and Gwen found herself strangely grateful to be spared reading further. She stood, needing to spend some time walking under the trees to clear her head and put some distance between herself and this uncomfortable discovery. 

She intended to toss the letter into the fire and was therefore surprised to find it later that night, tucked safely away in her inside breast pocket.


End file.
